A Hetalian Twelfth Night Shakespeare Parody?
by VictorianNight
Summary: To those who love Shakespeare and Hetalia, this is the fic for you! Starring Amelia F. Jones as Viola and Arthur Kirkland as Duke Orsino! More information on pairings and such inside. Please tell me if its any good to continue! D:
1. Chapter 1

**HetaliaxNyotaliaxShakespeare anyone?**

**I highly suggest reading this only if you have read Twelfth Night or have seen 'She's The Man' (since its basically the modern version of the script) or are familiar with the basic plot and story only because things might not make sense to those who haven't.**

**PAIRINGS: FEM!USxUK, onesided UKxFemFrance, onesided Fem!USxFem!France even though one thinks the other is a boy, and many, many more to come.**

**This is based off the original script of Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare. Not just the movie 'She's the Man'. This will follow the script, not the movie. I use sparknotes to read the script as reference, but I very much know the play. Heck, I was in our school's production of it. :/ (Viola's understudy and Fabian FTW) **

**I absolutely love this play, and I'm trying to do it justice as I place the Hetalia characters and their genderbent forms into the story. I automatically saw Fem!America as Viola - she's perfect for the role! And Arthur would be an amazing Orsino in my eyes. =w= **

**Francoise is Fem!France for those who don't know XD**

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Arthur Kirkland was, for once, walking amongst the mansion's halls without one of his pesky servants following him. He needed time to think to himself, for there was far too much on his mind to carry on with any work. He passed by many doorways on his little stroll, but one in particular caught his attention.

Music. Wonderful music came from inside.

Surprisingly, not too many knew of Arthur's secret passion for music. It soothed him, comforted him, and helped him sort out his emotions. This one song in particular, however… It sounded like heaven to his ears!

Arthur stepped inside the room with no intent of interrupting. However, the musicians glanced up from their instruments to shoot an almost frightened glance at the Brit.

Arthur sighed. This behavior didn't surprise him. Most of his servants, musicians, cooks, and especially the maids were at times either afraid of him or just expected to get rude comments from him. Arthur was known to be quite the grouch.

"Why would you stop such a lovely melody?" He asked, an almost tired look dawning upon the small group of musicians.

The group just stared up at him, not willing to speak out and anger the man.

Arthur just turned and walked to one of the giant windows that showed the vast land of Illyria. It was a beautiful, yet at the same time dull place. It held a variety of people, from personality wise to ethnic backgrounds. It was special in its own way, he supposed. "You know what they say. '_If music be the fruit of love, play on._'" With that, the young man turned his attention to the musicians once again. After understanding the message, they began to play again.

Arthur let his thoughts drift off once more. But all he could really think about was her. Francoise Bonnefoy. The girl he once despised.

The girl he now may have fallen in love for.

The mere thought of her made his face flush and his stomach churn in disgust at the same time. Many a time ago, he and Francoise never exactly got along. Francoise, however, would flirt with him to no end—which caused him to become more angered than flustered. She meant it in good fun though, because she only wanted Arthur's attention on her. She may not have meant it to be that way, but that's what it has turned out to be. She left Arthur wanting her attention. But recently, Francoise's dear brother died—leaving her torn to pieces. She isn't the same self she was before. She was more reserved, more mature. She stopped caring for Arthur. But this was the side Arthur had fallen for; this miserable side of her that he could comfort. But was it right? He didn't know—

"My lord?"

A small voice broke Arthur from his thoughts, and turned his attention over to find one of his younger servants, eyes wide and curious, looking up at the older Brit.

"What now, Curio?" Arthur said to the boy, a hint of annoyance behind his words.

"Will you be hunting today? The hart?"

Arthur tried not to chuckle at how ironic the question was. "Ah….The heart indeed, young one. Only if I had better aim for who I was longing for.." He nearly gave a small glare to another manor across the distance, which belonged to Lady Francoise. He wondered how she was, and if she spared a thought for him.

As if on cue, his messenger arrived through the tall doors—a bit of a worried expression plastered on his pale face.

"Valentine! Tell me the news," Arthur nearly ran to the messenger, with the same eagerness as a dog greeting its owner. After a moment of realization, he composed himself and cleared his throat. "I mean.. What did you hear from Miss Francoise?"

Valentine fidgeted a bit before answering. "My lord, I was stopped right at the gates. I couldn't speak to her. One of her maids did instead. She told me she does not want to hear from you, but not because she is holding anything against you. She just wants to be away from everyone as she mourns her brother's death. She is not intending to be anyone's lover until after seven years."

Arthur groaned in annoyance of this answer, covering his face with his hand. "Seven years? What kind of bloody point is she trying to prove? And not even a simple 'thanks for understanding' or 'I wish you a good day?'"

"The maid didn't look very…happy to be delivering this news. More annoyed…" Valentine looked down pensively.

"Oh, that French girl won't last. I guarantee it." Arthur stomped over across the room, and out the door, shutting it behind him and causing the musicians to stop their melody once again.

A small group of people stood on the grand shore that led to Illyria, chatting and huddling amongst themselves. Behind them was a great boat, or once was a great boat. The bottom of it was broken to pieces and sunk deep into the sand of the shoreline.

"Mister!" A young American girl hobbled her way towards the ship's captain. "Where the heck are we?" She asked, looking over the shore where the ship had wrecked. She was one of the only survivors it seemed.

The captain, a dashing man in a now tattered uniform, turned to her. "This is Illyria, miss."

The girl furrowed her brows, and then wailed, "Illyria? What the hell am I gonna do here? My brother—he's dead!"

"_Amelia!" _

_The girl whipped her head around as the wind pushed her hair back, her face full displaying the clearest vision of horror. With quick pace, she ran to her brother's side. As the boat rocked a bit more, she held onto him tightly so he wouldn't slip away from her. "Alfred!"_

"_Amelia, listen," Alfred grabbed his sister's hands tightly in his own. "If anything happens to either of us, know that we'll find each other again!"_

"_Is that a promise?" Amelia yelled above the thunder of the violent storm that was plaguing them._

"_You bet it is!" Alfred gave her one last smile that seemed to flash radiantly, that or it was the bright streak of lightning that struck. _

_After another loud roll of thunder, another rock, and a crash, Alfred's hands slipped from Amelia's. He was gone._

Amelia shook her head from the thoughts and instead gazed up at the man. "Wh-What do you think, mister? Do you think…he drowned?"

The young captain let out a breath, letting his own gaze fall away from the American girl before him. "It was great luck in itself that you yourself were saved, miss. Only a few made it alive.."

"But my brother!" She wailed again, absentmindedly burying her face into the captain's chest and clinging to him. "I just want to know if he's alive!"

The captain looked down at this girl with a questionable stare, but returned her embrace nonetheless. She had been through a lot today, and she must have been vey attached to her brother—he could tell. But what sibling wouldn't? Especially in this situation… "Miss, I can't be so sure. But I have faith in him, as I do in you. If he's anything like you, miss, I'm sure he survived by some chance. And if not, then may God bless his soul for protecting his sister in such a valiant way." He removed his hat, and held it to his heart with his face up at the sky.

Amelia detached herself from the young captain, and composed herself. "Well, I might as well get to know this place, seeing as that I'll be stuck here for a while. Are there any good paying jobs out here?"

"I'm afraid not. Most people around here don't accept non-citizens that appear out of nowhere. That, and most businesses are run by individual families here. So the workers are usually their family members or close friends." The captain gave Amelia an apologetic look as he spoke.

"Damn…Now I really don't know what to do," Amelia sighed and kicked some sand on the shore. "Well, who's the government leader around here? A king? A president?"

"A duke," The captain smiled faintly, placing his hat back on his head. "Arthur Kirkland."

"Arthur Kirkland.." Amelia pondered on the name. "Oh! I've heard of him!" She smiled proudly. "Well, my father told me about him.. But he was a bachelor then.."

"And he still is. But there's been so many rumors about him seeking the love of Lady Francoise, believe it or not." He snickered to himself at the thought.

"Who's this 'Lady Francoise'?" Amelia asked, raising a brow.

"Ah, she's the most beautiful in all of Illyria! One of the wealthiest too, ever since her father and brother died. She's still mourning both their deaths, and swears that she will not be seeing any man for quite some time in memory of her brother."

Amelia processed all this for a moment. A rich lady who doesn't want to see any men.. She wondered if she was in need of any work. "Oh, I wish I could serve that lady. I'm in desperate need of money.. My brother was carrying it all."

"That would be difficult to do," The captain shook his head. "She won't even allow the Duke's messengers into the manor; much less a stranger new to the place."

What was Amelia to do now? She didn't have anywhere to go, no money, no food to eat.. And she most certainly couldn't stay on this boat! Where was this girl to work? She reviewed her options. She could definitely get kicked out of this Lady Francoise's manor, without a doubt. There wasn't much else Amelia could do. No other business would accept a stranger here. There was only one other choice. "Captain, I want to work for this 'Duke'. I'll be a man if I have to! I'll cut off some of my hair—its already short anyway. Just please let me know if its possible!" She must have sounded silly.

The captain, however, stood with a solemn expression. "It's possible, yes. But to conceal your identity? It would be risky."

Amelia sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "I know… But I have to do something. I'm not just going to wait around like some weak woman who depends on her man. I'm an independent lady! So it's time I start acting like one! Well… I guess I'd be an independent _man_ this way." She chuckled heartily.

The captain returned a soft smile. "I like your attitude, miss. I wish more women would see things the way you do. But do you really want to go through with this? There's no telling how long you'll have to be disguised."

Amelia's smile faded dramatically and was replaced with a strong and serious expression. "I'll do whatever it takes. Just promise you won't tell anyone that I'm actually a lady, and I'll pay you plenty when I get enough money." She extended her hand out to him. "Deal?"

The captain nodded, placing his hand in hers and shaking it. "Deal."

Amelia's smile returned and she practically tackled the young man out of joy. "Thank you!" She laughed, then got off of him and straightened herself out. "Now, show me where a girl can find some men's clothes!"

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**Aaaaaaand exeunt! :D **

**I'm...sorry this was so terrible.. XD I need some writing practice I think..**

**But before I go, I need your help!**

**I'm having trouble deciding on who should play Sebastian here. I originally made it Alfred (like in this chapter) but I'm starting to think about using Matthew instead, because of who he ends up with in the end (Those who know the original story know who XD). But ah.. I don't know.**

**So, FEEDBACK IS IMPORTANT! Please review, or even PM me if you have any suggestions as to who should play which character or anything else! Much love to you all3 Until next chapter~**

**Twelfth Night - William Shakespeare**

**Hetalia/Nyotalia characters - Hidekaz Himaruya**

**So basically I own nothing :3**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everyone! Finally, I have chapter 2 up. XD**

**Some notes~**

**-Thank you sooooo much for the reviews so far.**

**-Thanks for the suggestions for characters!**

**-I used some of these suggestions, since I was still a bit clueless as to who would play who to be honest O.O So THANK YOU to the ones who gave such wonderful characters these roles. I originally hadn't planned on Hungary being Maria, but I love the idea! I always had Spain in mind for Sir Andrew though.. It suits him rather well. XD And Austria as Malvolio? You people are geniuses! *faints* I couldn't even think of who could play him.. but I love the suggestions sooo much and they fit well! Once again, THANK YOU ALL.**

**ONCE AGAIN: (my own disclaimer ahead)**

**This is a parody of William Shakespeare's Twelfth Night with Hetalia characters, which belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. I do not own the original plot, or the characters, or the jokes used in the story because I don't even understand my own sense of humor. THIS IS FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES! I would never steal any of these amazing men's work and claim it for my own. I am simply putting two things I love together as one story! :3**

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The Bonnefoy house was indeed a grand one. Besides its many rooms, beautifully decorated parlors, and large swooping staircases, its magnificent gardens were known to be the best in all of Illyria. The hedges were neatly trimmed everyday, and the flowers were tended to around the clock when needed. Its bricked walkways swerved around the entirety of the garden, almost in a maze as it led from the side and back of the house itself. It really was a nice place to just gaze at for hours.

A young woman was sweeping up the walkway that led to the back door to the house at the crack of dawn, her silken light brown hair swaying with her motions. Her gemlike eyes were casted directly down at the spot she was cleaning. That is, until some annoying laughter and stumbling footsteps were heard coming toward her.

"You've done it again, Gilbert.." The woman sighed. She didn't even have to look to know it was that blasted Prussian arriving home this early again.

"Kesesesese! Of course I won again! I drank the most at that last party. It's official that it was awesome!" Gilbert nearly shouted to the heavens, laughing so loudly that the birds that had flocked around the two had quickly dispersed.

The woman smacked Gilbert's shin with her broom, a disapproving frown spreading across her lips. "Quiet down! Lady Francoise is still asleep. Do you want to wake up the entire house?" She hissed, glaring up at the albino man beside her.

"Ouch! Not so rough, Elizabeta!" Gilbert nearly jumped back a foot from the broom's hit. "But my niece? Francoise? She's awake. Geez.. You'd think her own personal housemaid would know this.." He smirked quite cheekily, earning another smack of a broom from the Hungarian woman.

"I did not check on her this morning, okay?" Elizabeta set her broom aside. "Its not like I sit around just watching her all day.."

"I thought that was your job, honestly.." Gilbert mumbled.

"Hush, or I'll hit you with that broom again," She threatened. "Besides, only you would know that because you come home so late. Or should I say, so early in the morning. Really, your partying and drunkenness isn't approved by your niece. You, of all people, should know that. You being her 'uncle' and all.."

"Well, at least I can clearly see that she is awake this early in the morning without being her wench. Speaking of which, what's wrong with Francoise lately? Is she still sad over Francis's death? It can't be healthy for her to be waking up this early and mourning over him.."

"Please. We all know you did the same for quite a while." Elizabeta grabbed her broom again and swept past him.

Although he still wasn't completely sober (well, he never was), Gilbert sighed as he thought back to those times of his own mourning for his best friend. Drinking for him only increased after Francis's death. "He was my friend, Elizabeta." A wide grin suddenly spread across his face as he held his flask out in the air. "And an excellent drinking buddy!"

"You're hopeless.." She shook her head at him, continuing to sweep the bricks. "You'll kill yourself with all that drinking. Lady Francoise said the same just the other day while you were out at one of your 'German parties'. That, and she brought up that idiot of a man you brought along with you."

"Antonio?"

"I believe that was the name… He's a good friend of yours, right?"

Gilbert nodded, a lopsided smile plastered on his pale face. "You'd better believe it! We go way back.." He laughed, as if reminiscing about fond memories. "But he's quite the guy when it comes to wealth. He was once poor, but after getting into the 'warrior, fighting, pirating' thing, he's getting more money in!"

"So he's a thief? How can you exactly give him praise when he doesn't deserve the credit?" Elizabeta huffed, shooting him a glare.

"Not a thief! He fights with honor, and earns everything successfully and justly!"

"Ah. So he gambles in a sense?"

"Oh just forget it! But besides the money, he's got many talents: singing, dancing, painting… All just coming to him naturally!"

"That including being an oblivious idiot? I hear he's quite the coward too… And quite the drinker.. I wonder where he picked that up from.." The Hungarian girl shot another look to the Prussian.

Gilbert, becoming quite frustrated, flailed his arms in the air before crossing them against his chest. "We don't drink for just any reason. When we drink, its either to Francoise or Francis." With a glance from behind him, he saw the said Spaniard running towards him. "Hm.. Well what do you know? There he is."

"Gilbert~! Mi amigo!" The Spanish man practically sang, his arms open wide to greet his friend.

"Antonio! There you are," He accepted the said man's sign of friendship, embracing him briefly. "Kesesese… We were just talking about you!"

"Qué? Oh, what were you saying?" Antonio's face beamed brightly with curiosity.

"I was just telling Elizabeta here how wonderful of a man you were and she's beginning to take interest.." Gilbert snickered, glancing back at the woman.

Elizabeta's face blushed. "I have no—!"

"—Ah, she is in denial.." Gilbert sighed, shaking his head. "Antonio, go and win her cold and cruel heart!" Oh, how he loved annoying this girl.

"Don't you dare—!" Elizabeta's words were cut off by Gilbert's hand covering her mouth. The rest of her sentence was muffled angry shouting.

"But I can't do such a thing!" Antonio broke in, removing Gilbert's hand from over Elizabeta's mouth. No offense to you, Elizabeta; you're a lovely lady. But out here with Gilbert around? It wouldn't be the right setting!"

Now free from Gilbert's clutches, Elizabeta grabbed her broom tightly and began walking off as quickly as she could. "Goodbye, boys.."

"She took your words offensive, Tony! What the hell were you thinking?" Gilbert slapped the side of Antonio's head lightly. "Go, apologize, and promise that you'll sweep her off her feet!" He snickered. "Quite literally.." He pointed to the broom that was in the young woman's hands.

Antonio, shaken by the words, hurried over to the young lady. "Ah, miss! I'm sorry! Please, if we could just save this for another place, I would surely make you fall in love with me! Gilbert and I are both very serious about these things! Do you think you have a couple of idiots on your hands?"

Elizabeta bottled up her anger and put on a sweet, yet sinister smile. "Sir, I am not nor will I ever be holding either of your or Gilbert's hands. Therefore, no idiots will be in mine. Good day to you." With that, she made her exit to the back door of the house.

"That was harsh.." Gilbert spoke, breaking the silence that had lingered between them since the door shut close. "Has anyone ever rejected you like that? And so quickly?"

Antonio's smile never seemed to fade, for it was only a bit weaker now as he sighed. "Ah… Maybe once a long time ago. Back when I met this Italian… I'm sure you know the story though."

"And don't I know it well…" Gilbert tried to smile reassuringly, slinging an arm around his friend's shoulder.

After a moment more of quiet, Antonio looked to the ground before speaking again. "Gilbert… I think I'll be leaving tomorrow…"

"Huh? But you just got here!" Gilbert protested, removing his arm from around him. "And not even having an awesome party—I mean drink—together before you do?"

"As good as that sounds, there really is nothing to celebrate." Antonio looked back up, towards the morning sky. "I don't think Francoise is interested in me… There's really no chance that we'll get any closer than friends. And with what happened between Francis and I long ago…"

Gilbert gave Antonio a pat on the back and an almost saddened look. "Don't let that get to you. You're too awesome to be brought down by old news."

"Thanks, Gil." Antonio's smile returned, but slowly. "She's still not interested in me though. What's the point of me staying any longer? Besides you, of course.."

"Don't give up yet! She isn't interested in anyone right now. She's still in mourning. She's not even giving into Duke What's-His-Face like she did long ago. I heard _he's_ the one after her now! Kesesesese… And I thought he was as heartless as Elizabeta is!"

"You shouldn't be so mean to her, Gilbert. What has she ever done to you?" Antonio moved away from him smoothly, crossing his arms.

"_You_ aren't the one working with her everyday."

"Hmmmm…." Antonio's smile now flickered with mischief, his feet swiftly guiding him around Gilbert. "I think _you're_ the one who should win her heart~"

Gilbert's cheeks colored faintly and he growled. "I am not! Don't be so mean, Antonio!" He began chasing after Antonio, who was skipping away so happily all of a sudden.

Antonio laughed, turning and grabbing Gilbert by the hands. "Dance with me, Gilbert! It's been so long, and I have to show you these new moves I learned while traveling!" He spun around with him, causing Gilbert to groan in pain at the oncoming headache from his late night drinking.

"Not so fast, Tony!" He groaned, trying to keep up with the Spanish man. They twirled and danced their way out the garden, and into the house just as the sun had fully risen.


End file.
